Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Same Sex Bird Boning (and other less interesting articles)

Mooallem

Just from the get-go, this article has a hook with it's title.  The Love That Dare Not Squawk Its Name is tantalizingly ambiguous, and made me want to press on to figure out if the story was as good as the imagery the title evokes.  And in short, it totally was.

You be so quiet, and so still.


The basic issue in this article is us.  We tend to only know how to measure and categorize everything around us in human terms; terms which often have nothing to do with the "natural" world.  While it is a bit of a DUH! that humans measure the world according to human knowledge, it opens up a door for me as a reader to more clearly see human bias toward an animal subject.  It's a useful thing to know for writing future science articles, since so much of what interests us lies outside of human understanding.  If I end up writing about animal behaviors, it's important to remember that (as far as we know) animals don't carry guilt, or experience suspicion, or give a shit whether you prefer hetero or homo relationships. Animals simply are, and do whatever they feel like without regard to human social construction. Robert Heinlein once said, "Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig."  This concept applies to painting nature into a human box.  It's a waste of time, it reveals nothing but our own human bias, and if the birds had any way of knowing what we were doing, i'm sure they'd experience whatever animals liken the human sensation of annoyance to.

This article is set up with a pleasing ratio of crass language to scientific results, making it easy to forget that we are essentially reading a study.  Interest tends to linger longer for me if the writing makes me live the piece instead of swallow it.  It was pretty easy to feel like I was the author of this article, since he took some hilariously candid quotes from some of the scientists as well as a few of his own snarky observations.  We rarely hear scientists talk about personal things such as how being gay affects (or doesn't affect) their work, and rarely do we hear a biologists refer to themselves as dorky.  It's refreshing to get a blunt perspective on the people doing the research, and makes it a little easier to connect to.  This is certainly an element that will be in all of my writing for this course.

Polanyi

It seems to me that this article was required reading only for the stark contrast to Mooallem's article.  This article is rigid, academically rigorous, and without imagination.  This article is, however, directly to the point, and you could actually summarize it just by reading the title.  I started out reading every word, but after the dramatic, "Our vision must conquer or die" statement, i've checked out as a reader and have started skimming.  Although this article is a few decades old, and language was a little different back then, a statement so dramatic immediately reveals that the author is too emotionally involved for me to not be skeptical about his credibility.  
Polyani's Peers

Ironically, this exact feeling I get towards Polanyi is the argument he makes about scientific conflicts, that people's "extraneous interests interfere[ing] illegitimately with the due process of scientific enquiry."  Due to the fact that my personal opinion is that Polanyi uses cringe-worthy dramatic wording, I am part of the issue he addresses.  Whether i like the way an author writes or not, i'd like to work on not being such a reluctant audience, and accept that if something is written by a human, it will inevitably have human emotion put into it.  That being said, I realize pointedness is a relatively common sought after quality in science writing so that you don't have to wade through flowery bullshit just to get the facts.

Diamond

This short article was a fun read due to the nature of it's question.  However before the question was even revealed, I was captivated by the imagery of Australians riding into battle on kangaroos to conquer Eurasia.  It's this type of outside the box suggestion that can make the difference between reading thoroughly and skimming.  This article shows that sometimes saying absurd things can draw in an audience just to see if you're going to continue being absurd, or connect absurdity to reality.



Hancock

Hancock touches on what i've already said about both the Mooallem and Polyani articles regarding title, that our eyes quickly skim through the ordinary in search of something extraordinary that is worth our "precious" time to read.  With a title as stiff and revealing as "Scientific Controversy" it's no wonder I ended up skimming most of the article, because everything was revealed upfront.  On the other hand, "The Love That Dare Not Squawk Its Name" is a title that pulls you in further to see what it could possibly mean.  I completely agree with her when she says that "readers can tell when you're showing off and unconcerned with them."  That's how it felt reading Polyani, the writing didn't give a damn if it was read or not; a lovable quality in fiction, but not non-fiction.  Hancock makes this a very comfortable read in it's armchair conversational style.

I often start my writing off strong with the reader in mind, as if I am telling a campfire story and trying to capture the attention of rambunctious ADHD siblings with glowing screens in their palms that might rival my stories at any point.  It's an image I always return to, because it keeps the pressure on me of staying interesting, and not bloating my story.  But after awhile, it's easy to lose that sense of conversation, and it feels like i'm just telling my stories to that menacing blinking cursor who is always ready for the next word.

(As an aside...I wonder if Doug's mind feels "steeped in sophomoric prose")

I have a real drafting issue, coupled with an attitude issue.  By that I mean i'm generally one and done, and it often shows.  I hate the process of revision, which might be a writer's worst enemy.  But, it's because I can be a pretentious cunt, and make idiotic claims like, "revision takes the magic out of the initial inspiration" blech blech blech...It's like there is this fear of judgement, and Hancock is right, I can always say, "Of course there are mistakes it's only a draft!" for the rest of my god damned life...



2 comments:

  1. Adam~

    And this is why I like your writing. It’s inviting, it’s hilarious, it asks the questions easily fearful to ask, it’s honest, and finishes with just a slightly cynical touch of inspiration. Perfect. It’s your distinct style, and I have faith it will resonate through your future science writings.

    Pieces I liked:
    Your paragraph on Hancock, and skimming for the extraordinary among the ordinary. Titles are a crucial element of any piece of writing, and can also be culprits for the abhorred adjective “dry” far too often. We all agree the likelihood increases of us reading an article with a title that seems exciting, slightly inappropriate, or “out of place” in its genre than one that has fancy scientific lingo and outlines the pinnacle of the article. The weight of titles is easily overlooked, but important to consider as we put the finishing touches on our science pieces.

    Also, I loved the bit about imagining writing for an ADHD sibling. Many authors talk of the “ideal audience,” and yours is practical and humorous. Laziness too easily creeps in making us lose our exciting bend in writing, as we slosh through the bogs of research. Hooray for envisioning ADHD family members!

    Lastly, about drafting. Although I am the opposite (an obsessive reviser), I share your feelings regarding “tak(ing) the magic out…” I wonder, what is that magic? What is it about those flawful (coining a word here) first drafts, with all their holes and gaps and lackings, from where does that raw beauty come? Is it the attitude of the unchained writer? It is that personality shows through the most? I’m thinking, what if we tried to identify our “magic,” so that we may preserve it through revision? I’m curious to hear if you have an idea of yours.

    From this comment, it may appear that I just read the last part of your blog. Ooops...I actually did read it all. (:
    Until next time,
    Anjeli D

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  2. Hi Adam. I don’t feel like a distracted tween sitting by a campfire, but I can appreciate your attention to grabbing the reader. Your title and images are great. I like that your first critique of any article is based on style. I think this probably makes you a tough critic, but at least you know what you like and why. Though I have general ideas, I don’t always go through the trouble of dissecting why an article struck me as enjoyable or painful. I think it’s valuable to be aware of these things so we can borrow (or expel) these techniques in our own writing. It seems like you’re probably more adept than me at writing an article you’d want to read yourself.

    I like your observations about the Mooallem article and its attention to our readiness (maybe even need) to anthropomorphize other animals. I think humans tend to do this with everything nonhuman out of conceit, certainly, but also out of a need to connect or rationalize our place in the world. Are we pointless specs or impactful ants (to borrow a bit of imagery from Doug)? We seem to get pulled in both directions and that can make it hard to make sense of our surroundings. As Mooallem pointed out, “[i]t’s naïve to slap conclusions about a given species directly onto humans. But it’s disingenuous to ignore the possibility of any connection” (257).

    Environmental literature sometimes grapples with this as a nature/culture divide. Are we part of “nature” or the caretakers of it? Can we identify a human place outside of “nature” or are we indelibly linked to those around us with which (whom?!) we evolve? Or both? Mooallem leaves us hanging after pointing out the problems of moving too far in either direction. I don’t think this is the type of thing that gets solved in science writing, but it’s definitely something to be aware of.

    Liam

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